


Wanheda's Pet

by god-heda (ChocDog)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Collars, Dom Clarke, Dom/sub, F/F, Fluff, Master/Pet, Oneshot, Possessive Behavior, Power Play, Smut, Sub Lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocDog/pseuds/god-heda
Summary: At the end of the week, Commander Lexa has one day where she can finally be only what she wants to be: Hers.Or: Just a bit of domestic fluff and some smut; Clarke being a gentle dominant and Lexa being a cute submissive





	Wanheda's Pet

**Author's Note:**

> I'ma warn you now so I don't get people bitching in the comments, if you don't like seeing Lexa be submissive/needy, don't read this and definitely don't talk shit k thanks
> 
> Other than that, hope you enjoy ;)

The first sensation of the morning was taste. Metallic, it made Lexa’s mouth feel heavy with flavor and fatigue. It was foul and in need of a good wash to dispel, but she was never bothered about that when her teeth were sunk into Clarke’s neck, sucking like she needed her blood to survive. The source of this crazed state she achieved last night was dozing blissfully on her back beside her, she was the rest of the sensations; all four of them.

The sound was her rhythmic breathing, in tune with the sight of the rise and fall of her bare chest. Despite their affairs last night, Clarke still managed to carry a pleasant scent into the morning; it was comforting, the smell of raw intimacy. It radiated off of her resting form just as an inviting warmth did, welcomed in the crisp chill of the winter morning.

Lexa watched Clarke’s breath cloud above her mouth as she breathed out, lips parted to let the fog escape. No matter how cold it got, even in this clouded window, five-layer blanket kind of season, the couple always found ways to stay warm. They were clever; they didn’t even need clothes.

But in the mornings, when they had drifted apart in their sleep and their naked bodies were subject to the temperature; it wasn’t quite as cozy. Lexa shivered and wiggled her way over to Clarke’s side, nuzzling her face into the blonde’s neck. 

Clarke groaned at the cold sensation but didn’t stir, much to Lexa’s grief. Waking her Mistress on a Sunday just because she was cold would usually be too disrespectful to even consider, but this particular morning might as well be crystalizing breath the very moment it entered the air.

Lexa whined and nibbled at a dark spot on Clarke’s neck, fresh with warm iron that amplified the marinated taste in her mouth. “Wake up…” she murmured to no response.

With a huff, Lexa adjusted her position lower, taking one of Clarke’s exposed breasts into her mouth. She licked over the bud, over the uneven skin around it; goose bumped from the cold. Clarke hummed and finally moved, pulling a hand to Lexa’s head to card her fingers through disheveled brunette locks.

“Good morning,” she purred, feeling Lexa’s lips curl in a smile as they sucked at her flesh in response. “You’re freezing.”

When she didn’t reply again, Clarke tugged gently on Lexa’s hair to pull her away from her breast. The Commander whimpered but rested her head on Clarke’s belly instead, bright green eyes throwing sad looks up at her.

Clarke smiled and kept stroking her lover’s hair like she was a sleeping pet, the fingers of her other hand slithering beside her chin to massage her jawline in that same way that made Lexa melt into a puddle of pure affection. She smiled and tilted her head into Clarke’s touch, the warmth of the moment between them thawing the frost that might as well have coated Clarke’s cold fingers.

“Guess what day it is,” Clarke asked, a suggestive eyebrow raised.

“Sunday.”

“And what does that mean?”

Lexa grinned and filled the room up with the warmth of her smile. “I’m not Heda today.”

“That’s right,” Clarke answered, rewarding her with a finger that she brushed across Lexa’s lips. She smirked and nipped at it playfully, catching it in her mouth to nibble at it. Clarke watched her with a goofy smile; the sight of Lexa so shamelessly comfortable and finally at ease warming her down to her bones as if it wasn’t the middle of winter.

Day after day, Clarke had to watch The Commander struggle to maintain the Coalition, haggle with concerned business owners, debate with Chancellors, Chiefs, Chairmen, the like. She and Clarke’s relationship was restricted solely to the bedroom to avoid the suspicion that it was affecting The Commander’s work. By the week’s end, they were both tense and wired like strung out wire.

But today was Sunday. The day when neither Heda nor Wanheda’s duties were active. Unless an emergency arose, all work was delegated. Sundays were for Heda, and her Mistress. The best day of the week.

“Hey, wait,” Clarke blurted out suddenly, too caught up in her Sunday fantasies to notice Lexa had switched positions again; this time with a far more clear goal. She lifted the furs that Lexa had slipped under to frown at her, concealed by the darkness of the blanket. “Now how did you get down there, princess?”

Lexa stared up at Clarke from her new position between her thighs with utter obliviousness. “I moved,” she stated flatly, that smirk still present on her features as she nipped at Clarke’s inner thigh. 

“Yes, you did.” The blonde laughed, dropping the blanket in defeat and hiding the face of the woman beneath it. “Aren’t you worn out from last night?”

“No,” Clarke heard Lexa answer, somewhat muffled. She bit her lip when those cold fingers first parted her folds, shivering at the chilling sensation. The next one was equally as engaging, making her shiver again but not from the cold. Lexa’s breath was lovingly warm right over her most sensitive spot; she could tell she was breathing in excess on purpose.

“Mistress…” her voice sounded again, and Clarke felt Lexa’s other hand rubbing small circles into her thighs. “May I service you?”

“It should really be the other way around. The whole point of your off day is to relax…” Clarke mused, stretching her words out. She grinned when she felt a hot puff of breath over her crease again; more than likely accompanied by an impatient pout. 

“It is relaxing…” Lexa whined. “Please, Clarke?”

The Commander of Death, for all her deadly glory, couldn’t stand to hear Lexa in pain for too long. At least not like this. “Go.”

And then Clarke shuddered at first contact; her tongue by far the warmest sensation of the morning. It darted out to lap against her clit before it was taken between two wet, plump lips, sucking gently while small moans escaped out from beneath the furs. Clarke’s legs automatically parted further to give her lover more access, an action Lexa appreciated by shuffling closer until her shoulders were digging into Clarke’s inner thighs.

At her side, Clarke’s hand twitched with every new touch; the graze of her teeth, flick of her tongue, the curious finger that traced a line on the borders of her entrance. Lexa seemed to notice its spasms because just as Clarke was about to claw the sheets as Lexa took her between her lips again, her own hand reached out to clutch her partner’s.

 _“Mm…”_ Clarke hummed, her eyes falling shut in content just as her fingers locked with Lexa’s. Within their grip, there was no heat to be exchanged, but neither of them cared. Clarke was losing herself to the mouth that pleasured her and Lexa adored every moan that slipped out of Clarke’s lips.

When Clarke finally locked her legs around Lexa's shoulders, her hand crushed in her grip, a new taste generously filled Lexa’s mouth again. The coppery flavor of blood was washed away with Clarke’s orgasm, which Lexa shamelessly lapped up, encouraged by the beautiful noises Clarke was singing out to her.

There was something about Sundays that made Lexa forget the model self The Commander was expected to hold. The prestige, the assertiveness, it all fell away with her inhibitions on a Sunday. Humming to herself, she crawled back up to fully admire Clarke’s glorious afterglow; flushed face and clouded breath panting out. 

They exchanged a smile before Lexa leaned down to finally press their lips together, skipping the barriers and rolling their tongues together. Clarke laughed when she tasted her essence still present on Lexa’s tongue, pulling her closer by her hair to steal it away.

Sundays provided a different mindset for them both.

 

***

 

Although it was a work free day, Lexa always adamantly refused to simply waste away in bed for twenty-four hours. So, Clarke let her go when she scurried off to bathe and ‘prepare for the day’, despite the lack of obligations to prepare for.

Perhaps she’d take her on a date today, Clarke thought as she searched through their shared closet for something for her to wear. She’d already dressed in simple Skaikru pants, shirt, and jacket; foregoing a wash under the confidence that she smelt fine. If Lexa didn’t complain, she didn’t care.

But where to go? A lunch or dinner date, and where? Perhaps she’d finally get that tattoo she’d been discussing for weeks now but always bailed on the decided day out of petty fear. It was ridiculous the pain Clarke had endured, only to be scared of an inked bone striking her skin a few times.

By the time Lexa emerged from the bathroom, Clarke had decided on lunch at one of Lexa’s favorite establishments; a seafood restaurant owned by a Floukru family that had moved to Polis for work. Clarke stood next to the large, fluffy dress she’d laid out on the bed for Lexa to wear, watching her waltz into the room steaming and shivering in her towel.

“You’re not bathing?” she asked.

“Do I need to?”

“No. You’ll be fine for a day. Sex smells good on you.”

Clarke let a smile cross her face for a moment before she lifted her chin and clicked her fingers, pointing at a spot on the ground in front of her. “Here, pup.”

Even without the pet name, Lexa would have obeyed just as fast and diligently. Within a moment she was standing before Clarke, head dipped to look down at the shorter girl but it was clear who was bigger.

“I want you to wear this today. It’s cold.” Clarke began, guesting to the outfit on the bed.

_“Sha.”_

“Good girl.”

Lexa didn’t even need to ask; Clarke scooped up the undergarments from the bed first and slipped both pieces onto her, Lexa’s legs and arms obediently moving on their own to make the task easier. When the first layer was complete, Clarke pulled the huge dress over Lexa’s head and adjusted the straps that held the furs together so it was snuggly around her.

It was a luxurious thing; expensive and made only from rich, bear fur. It made Lexa look rather like one herself when it was properly donned; fluffy sleeves falling over her hands to reveal only fingers like claws, obscuring her legs completely in its grand length. 

Clarke smiled at her work, but it wasn’t quite over yet. Out of her pocket, she pulled the object that made Lexa gulp anxiously at the mere sight of it, thin, black, and studded with tiny, silver spikes. Lexa eyed it in Clarke’s hands with desperate submission, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation.

The Collar only made an appearance on this day. It was common knowledge that it existed; when it was on, Polis looked but thought nothing of it. They associated its appearance with Lexa’s day off, and that was all they needed to deduct. 

On this day Lexa belonged only to the Commander of Death. And she wanted everyone to know.

“Put it on,” Lexa breathed, shivering when she saw Clarke smirk in response. The blonde reached up to rub a finger over the purple love-marks she’d left the night before, only a fraction of the total that was peppered all across Lexa’s body beneath her robe. 

“Are these not good enough?” Clarke asked. 

Lexa shook her head vigorously. “I love them. But let me wear it.

“Neck.”

Lexa presented what Clarke desired and looked to the ceiling, leaning down half an inch to help the blonde reach. She bit her lip when she heard that delicious click of the collar locking into place, the tight leather chaffing her neck just the right amount. The sting reminded her of who she belonged to, who was the one who pulled it tight every time.

Who helped her forget about being Commander for a while. Who made her feel safe when she was supposed to do the same for the entire city. 

“Thank you, Clarke.” Lexa sighed, pulling her into an embrace. She was careful not to pull too hard, the spikes of the collar were knife-point sharp, and Clarke had received more than a few cuts at the tips of them.

The shorter woman hummed in content, returning the hug before pushing away to look up at those pretty green eyes she was pleased to see relaxed for once. “Will you go on a date with me today?”

“Of course,” Lexa answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down to plant a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. She lingered there for a moment, smiling against the chilled skin. “You’re still freezing.”

 

***

 

Lexa spent the walk to the restaurant in a state of utter submission; her body fitted perfectly into Clarke’s palm. They strolled across the crowded square hand in hand, Clarke glaring at anyone who dared look at her pet too closely. But as they reached the upper-class section of the market, Clarke guided Lexa along with her hand pressed to her lower back instead, each protective push making Lexa’s heart swell in adoration.

It was those little things she noticed in Clarke’s dominant nature that made The Commander melt into her like candle wax. While she was a goddess in the bedroom, on Sunday’s Clarke even managed to transfer her dominance into her everyday actions for Lexa’s benefit. She enjoyed the feeling of being watched over as opposed to constantly being the watchful one, and Clarke made sure to satisfy that.

“This place again...?” Lexa asked with a roll of her eyes when they finally stopped outside a hut with Floukru’s emblem on their sign next to an oddly detailed portrait of a fish.

“You love it here,” Clarke teased, patting Lexa’s rear to push her inside. The couple were escorted to a table immediately upon entry; other customers parting for the Commanders in respect. One man shifted aside but grimaced at the sight of Lexa’s collar, an action that was swiftly met with a snarl from Wanheda as she passed him, holding Lexa tight against her.

When they were seated and had requested two meals, Lexa reached out to hold Clarke’s fingerless-gloved hands in her own to warm them up. “We won’t need much for dinner.”

“I can think of something light. Easy on the stomach,” Clarke mused, rolling her gaze over Lexa’s body with a lick of her lips, red and fresh from the chilled air outside. In the restaurant they fared a little better; lanterns hung on the wall and there were no windows, a remarkably romantic atmosphere for midday.

Not that Lexa could complain. She shook her head at her lover’s comments, unapologetically admiring Clarke’s form in return. She spied an angry red bite mark on Clarke’s breast, available to the public eye along with her admittedly distracting cleavage. 

“I know,” Clarke answered the unspoken statement, fully aware of where Lexa’s sights were. “I want them to know I’m yours too.”

Lexa squeezed Clarke’s hands approvingly. “Mine.”

“All yours.”

When the food finally arrived, grilled squid for Heda, lobster salad for Wanheda, Clarke pulled both the bowls towards her and helped herself to one of the squids first, frowning.

“Too hot.”

“It’s cold, Mistress. It’ll warm me up,” Lexa protested, pawing at the bowl. A single look from Clarke stopped this, however, and Lexa folded her hands neatly in her lap instead. It was amazing how many dominant tendencies Lexa found attractive when she’d been deprived of them for a week.

Clarke munched on her own meal, taking half a bite of another squid after a few minutes to gauge its readiness for her pet. The bitten off half pulled away to release a smog of steam from Clarke’s fingers, holding the remaining piece. 

Lexa smirked and reached forward to bite it out of Clarke’s hand before it could be properly delivered, an action that earned her a glare followed immediately by a laugh. “Well played,” Clarke giggled.

“More?”

“Didn’t you eat enough this morning?”

Lexa glanced around at the other restaurant goers briefly, before leaning over the table to whisper closer to Clarke’s face. “I can never get enough of _that._ ”

“I can’t get enough of this squid,” Clarke said, ruining Lexa’s seduction attempts. She tossed another one into her mouth, chasing it after with a spoonful of her own, neglected meal.

“It’s mine, stop it.” Lexa snapped, but she could hardly keep a straight face. Seemingly rewarding her for relaxing a little, Clarke brought a squid to Lexa’s lips and pushed it into her mouth once it opened. 

Clarke kept an eye on the Grounders casting suspicious looks in their direction, but she doubted anyone would speak up. Offending the Commander of Death herself was already sealing one’s fate, but God help anyone who dared insult Wanheda’s pet.

 

***

 

When they’d both munched their way through the meals, Clarke rose first to stand next to Lexa, extending her hand to help her up. Together, they strolled to the counter, Clarke pushing Lexa’s arms down when she attempted to pay.

“Sorry,” she muttered under her breath after she was stopped. “Habit.”

“It’s okay, pup,” Clarke assured, pressing a kiss to Lexa’s cheek before pulling a deck of cards out of her jacket pocket and dropping it on the counter.

“Skaikru game, do you know it? Is this enough?”

The man at the counter nodded in awe at both the cards and the women he was serving. “These are very rare, Wanheda, are you sure?”

Clarke bit back a laugh. Clarke had been among the drunk group of Arkadians that had introduced Polis to cards on a boredom stricken night a few months ago, leaving several decks lying around with the people they taught the games too. They’d since become a treasure. “Yes, they’re all yours. The food was delicious.”

And with that, Clarke linked her arm with Lexa’s and took her leave, stunned individuals watching in bewilderment as the collared Commander herself followed obediently next to her. “Thank you,” she said when they were outside in the cold again, huddling closer for warmth.

“It’s your Sunday, I want you to enjoy it,” Clarke answered.

She looked up at Lexa, cuddling against her arm out of both warmth and unabashed attachment. Clarke noted with a smile the way Lexa was already biting her lip. “Can we enjoy the rest of it back home...?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, pulling Lexa along with her as she started on the path back to the tower. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still hungry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me @god-heda on tumblr
> 
> Yeah this was really just another break from Empire, I'll finish the next chapter soon. Hope you enjoyed, I'd appreciate if you'd leave kudos or a comment if you did!


End file.
